ByThePenshttps://bythepens.com
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Medieval Arthttps://bythepens.com/2017/09/21/medieval-art/
https://bythepens.com/2017/09/21/medieval-art/#commentsThu, 21 Sep 2017 16:44:46 +0000http://bythepens.com/?p=282More Medieval Art]]>Some months back, when I wrote the article on praying Mantis, I made a promise that my upcoming article would be about medieval paintings. Alas, I failed because, the next piece was “The Bus Fare”. However, I didn’t feel anything from inside, due to my failure to keep this promise. Perhaps this is a good omen, not being able to keep to promises is a salient attribute among Nigeria politicians- have I ever mentioned how rich Nigerian politicians are? (That is a story for another day). Not only did I not fail in the promise, I didn’t feel the need to explain myself to anyone as to why I had failed. Indeed, a top political office awaits me.

Anyway, I saw a notification on my credit card last weekend, indicating a debited amount for maintaining this domain. That was when it struck me, that I am paying for this site, and, the least I can do is be a bit more frequent in posting my writings, so I here I am. With the long overdue piece on the medieval paintings.

If one is to ask, to name some famous painters of all time; No doubt, legendary artisans such as Vincent van Gogh, Leonardo da Vinci, Pablo Picasso, Michelangelo, et cetera, will come to mind because of their various contributions. But mistake not! There are some paintings from same era that will completely change your orientation and confidence in the superiority of the human race (no insult intended, but you will soon get my point).

In this article, we will see some Paintings from medieval times that were quite famous then, and highly revered. The description of the intent and symbolism are clearly written in the art collections. Do you remember the origin of the myth about centaur?

A Centaur

The etymology of the Centaur goes back to ancient Greece when some greek first saw some englishmen riding on a horse and they depicted it as a whole animal, half-horse half-man. This was long before kings of Lapiths in greek mythology.

Let’s start with an easy one. Below is the painting of a frog, it was believed that the tongue of a frog placed on the head of a sleeping person would make them reveal their darkest secrets.

From the archives, it was also written that frogs dissolved in the winter, and reformed in the summer. And if this amphibian (or monster as the image seemed to suggest,) were to bite you, the only way to cure the venom would be to mix the blood of the sea turtle and cumin.

The next image will be a quiz. Please, identify animal below.

Yeap! The answer is right there; a wolf. The archives reported that brains of wolves increased and decreased with the phases of the moon. Also, that wolves were afraid of shrimps.

Next quiz, identify the animal from the image below:

I don’t care what your answer was, you are wrong! These are elephants. I don’t know exactly what they are sniffing on the floor, but my top guess is: they are looking for their trunks.

I should emphasize here, that, these drawings were not just any mere work of art. They were highly revered work for their “clear” depiction of Mother Nature. Most were done and presented to the kings of that time, by artists who travel the world and saw “new” animals and wished to share the experience. If you think those elephants were poorly drawn, then wait until I show you their cousins.

Without interfering with the love relationship between the Elephant and the Dragon, Draco (the dragon) seems too playful. Or the elephant is just not committed to the relationship. Who knows?

We are getting better, but again, look at the flowery ears of the elephant. I won’t complain much about the ears because of the next image.

So many things here, is that a castle? And the ears? – Adorable!

So far, this is the first artist to rightly depict the elephant tail. But he has bigger issues- is that a fish fin there?

Okay, now, I have my answer, that’s definitely a castle. What is happening here? What happened to the trunk? The ears? – No comments. But I like coy smile. It gives a vibe of accomplishment.

I have a question, how does the elephant eat? I am not going to talk about the legs. They are fine. So are the mushrooms.

Excerpts from the archives are quite helpful and informative, they describe what the reality was. But unfortunately, we don’t dare ask why. It explains the rivalry between Dragons and Elephants, and how dragons are completely useless in presence of water (their fire will be of no use). It was believed that elephants and dragons are arch nemesis, thus the constant battle.

We find so many of such paintings, where the elephants seek refuge near some water and the dragons are not warped around them anymore. By the way, these guys are still sniffing around for their trunks.

More Elephants with dragons.

This artist had lost his mind!

So had this artist too.

And this…. Check out the biceps though

I would have passed this for a fish, a Tilapia perhaps… But, nope! it’s an elephant. We can agree at this point, that an elephant trunk seemed to be the biggest challenge for medieval artists. They tended to have widely varied perceptions on the how and whereabouts of the trunk.

This guy has given up completely on the trunk.

No comments! I will leave you to judge this.

I have mixed feelings about this. Not only because I am bad at golf, but the nozzle on the trunk.

To be safe, these artists ignored the trunk completely.

I can honestly spend my whole time talking about the elephants, but he have to move on, I have other animals to show you.

The Ibex had been a famous animal as early as the 13th century. There are lots of drawings of ibexes, coupled with really weird beliefs about the animal too. It is always easy to distinguish an animal from the collections, mainly because the portraits are in harmony to certain beliefs, like the elephant-dragon rivalry, tigers ALWAYS staring at a mirror, griffins cradling their prey, and as for the ibex, well… It was believed that the animal’s horns were the strongest things ever, and it was never shy of demonstrating this feat. It jumped and lands on its horned. Let me just leave you to see the pictures.

Here is an Ibex

Here is another ibex showing strength as protective mechanism against a tiger.

The people in this work of art, surrendered after the display of strength.

Some casual freestyle.

Back to our quiz, this time you get multiple choice question.

Which of the following is a crocodile?

(A).

(B).

(C).

(D).

(E).

You have failed this quiz again. The answer is: “All of them”. A-E are all crocodiles. I find option D and E particularly disturbing. Artist E was feeling very fancy, and decided to throw in some wings. I guess other artists felt the vibe, and decided to jump on the bandwagon. See below

Another winged crocodile.

More crocodiles.

Also a crocodile. Honestly at this point, I was convinced these artists could basically draw anything and call it a crocodile, people would believe them. As expected, there were many beliefs about crocodiles too, but I will just mention one I find very… settling.

“Crocodiles are afraid of saffron, and country people often strew their bee hives with saffron to keep crocodiles from stealing honey.”

Now we will move to Birds.

The following images all come from The Smithfield Decretals, a copy of Pope Gregory IX’s Treatise on Medieval Canon Law. This version is believed to have been created somewhere in France in the 13th century, and the illustrations were later added in England decades later.

Just in case your mind hasn’t been fully blown yet, the image above is that of a BIRD chased by two snails.

Here is another bird taking milk, from a goat (just in case you are wondering where the idea of “nightjar feeding on goats milk” come from)

We don’t know why, but apparently, Rabbits were brutal, and were always on two legs.

Not to talk of the hostility they had with man.

Apparently and hostility towards dogs too…

….”Shhh I said keep quiet doggy!”

And now snakes.

You will think that the easiest thing to draw will be a snake. At the very least, you can just draw any line and make your case. Right?

Well, apparently not. It is clearly stated, that was indeed a snake [Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Français 1444, fol. 258]. It also says snakes are scared of nudity, thus, one should go naked if confronted by a snake.

By now, I am sure you are reconsidering you respect of medieval artist, and having a lot of thoughts about the level of skill they possess.

The image of the goat above is NOT from the 13th century but from the 21st. In fact, I took this image 3 months ago in Kaduna State, Nigeria. It is a painting in an elementary school. Let’s forget about the spelling mistake for a second, and appreciate the mouth (or beak?). These type images keep me up at night. Why the coloration? And is there Goat II ?- I looked everywhere on the wall for the progeny of this goat but couldn’t find any. Honestly, it will be easier to argue that the Goat is wearing a Coat. But then, what will you say about the head ? A helmet?.

Most of the images used are from 1110-1130 English bestiary, and Images from Bodleian Library, MS. Laud Misc. 247. I would like to thank Fantastic Beasts for clarity on some of the images.

]]>https://bythepens.com/2017/09/21/medieval-art/feed/7sadiqadamuCentuar12345678910111213141516171819202122232425262728293031323738333435363940The Bus Fare https://bythepens.com/2017/03/20/the-bus-fare/
https://bythepens.com/2017/03/20/the-bus-fare/#commentsMon, 20 Mar 2017 18:56:59 +0000http://sadiqadamu.wordpress.com/?p=267More The Bus Fare ]]>The sun is burning very brightly today, not like yesterday. But it is not the heat from the sun that is making me cry, neither is it because of the fact that I have to wash my teachers clothes tonight. Rather, I am crying because I misplaced some money, my entire money. I don’t think I can stop crying until I stop thinking about it. At first, I was trying to cry in silence, but I cannot hold back anymore. I feel my eyes are going to burst. I am really scared. I wish I didn’t go out today. I wished I had told my teacher, Malam Jafaru, to keep the money for me until tomorrow. I wished I didn’t wear this shirt with torn pockets, I wish I live with my parents. I wished I wasn’t brought to Islamiyah. I wished I wasn’t even born. Living life as a beggar, or Almajiri as we are known to be called, is nothing short of tragedy.

The hunger is making my belly to rumble; I can hear the sound even though I am weeping loudly. My head is starting to hurt, I am just thinking about my mother, Goggo. I cannot stay one more year without seeing Goggo. But Malam Jafaru has made it clear that I am not going to travel home without the bus fare. I do not have a penny to my name. And even if I had something, I would have loved to buy the beans cake- moimoi– from Mama Salamatu across the street. I am too exhausted to go from house to house, begging for lunch like any other day. My fellow Almajiris have all left to beg for food to eat, even if they were here, they couldn’t help me either, because they themselves, wouldn’t have anything.
Since after my father died, some three years ago, my mother brought me to Kaduna as Almajiri. I try not to think of my father, because it gives me a very sharp pain in my chest. I can almost see his face from the black stagnant liquid in the gutter I am sitting on. He was very dark in completion, my mom once told me he used to be tall, but after he fell from a motor bike – two weeks after my birth- he couldn’t stand straight anymore, he limped while he walked. Any memories I recollect of my dad, seems rather blur and appear in flashes, like the recollection of a dream. At this point, I cannot perceive the foul smell emanating from the gutter anymore; my nostrils are clogged from all the crying. Tears and mucus have all found their streams on my face. And the dozen of flies parading around my head are the least of my worries.

Amidst my distress and debacle, I raise my head away from the sight of the gutter. I can make out the figure of a boy approaching from the dust down the street. The boy looks very tired. He actually looks more like an adult, but is he wearing a school bag. Maybe he is a student. Mostly, high school students wear his kind of bag. I wish I can attend a school and learn English Language one day. Many of my age mates can sing rhymes in English; some can even write their names and make conversations in English Language. I think I can never be like them. The stranger seems to have noticed my presence.

“Why are you sitting by the gutter crying?” the stranger asked me. His face looks soft, he knows I am Almajiri from my bowl, and he’s trying understand my agony. Not many people care to ask us questions, maybe it is because we are so many and each one of us has different set of problems unraveled.

“Are you ill?” He asked again, even before I could answer his first question.

I try to speak but my speech comes out voiceless. I clear my throat and try again. Now he can hear me, although my voice is breaking and the sun is shining deep into my eyes as I try glance at him.

“No, I am not ill”. I replied,

“Then why are you crying profusely by the gutter”, he retorted. He squinted his face as if he’s looking for a reason as to why I am in this agony.

“I have misplaced the money for my trip”. I explained, “I was given six-hundred naira yesterday for my journey to Katsina to see my family, we are allowed to go there every year and if I don’t go tomorrow, …” My voice starts to break again and all of a sudden tears rush down my eyes, I want to explain to him that I have no means of raising that money, but my heart is too heavy to let me speak, I am sobbing like a little baby.

“It’s okay, I will help you”, the boy replied. “Stand up and come with me”, he added.

I walk behind him as we advance towards the big house on the other side of the street, near Mama Salamatu. I can see his face clearly now, he’s not a boy, he is at least twenty-five years. I wonder if I will also be like him after ten years. While we are walking, he askes me where my parents were and if I had asked them for help. I told him my parents live in Katsina, another city about five-hundred kilometers away. I explained to him how a stranger in the mosque helped me with his phone to call Goggo. And how when I called Goggo, she became very angry and shouted at me. She said I am very stupid and careless. When I tried to explain to her that the pocket of my shirt was torn and the money fell off without my knowing, she screamed at me even more. I didn’t tell the stranger that my father had passed away, I was afraid if he asked me details of when and how he died, I would start crying again.

The man told me to wait by the gate as he entered into the house and closed the door behind him. The heat from the sun is even more intense now that I’m standing close to the big metallic gate. I patiently waited for the stranger to return as I stared at the blue gate. A few moment has passed and I am starting to think he is not going to come out again. I am wondering if the house is so big that it takes him long to return?

So many things are running through my mind while I waited outside the gate. How happy I will be if the man eventually gives me the money, how I will be glad to see Goggo, and my cousin, Tijjani. I can go to the farm with Tijjani and farm together. The hunger in me is influencing my thoughts on what I could grow in the farm; groundnut? Corn? Or rice? I love Rice, especially when mixed with beans.

Now I think I can hear footsteps from inside the house, and suddenly the door handle turns with a squeaky sound. The man comes out with even more sympathy in his face. He opened the door wide and asked me to come inside to the shade. We stood by the gate under a pawpaw tree. The shade is really cool, the smell is just like gindin kuka in Katsina, where I often sit with Tijjani and eat sugarcane.

The man stretches out two fresh mints of five-hundred Naira notes.

“Here you go”, he says. “This is one-thousand Naira. Pay for your trip and keep the remaining four-hundred naira for your use” he added. I do not know what to say. An ecstasy of joy and jubilation is starting to build in me.

My eyes are getting watery again, before I could say thank you, he tapped my back and ask if I want to call my mother and inform her I have gotten the money for the journey.

He gave me his phone to call; I like how bright the screen of his phone is. It has a bright pink flower, with the picture of an elderly woman centered in the middle of the flower. Maybe it is mother’s phone, maybe that is why he took long to come out, perhaps he had to collect his mother’s phone. I don’t know why my mind keeps running all over the place.

I dialed Goggo’s number but the call doesn’t go through. The man told me the number was wrong, that I have added an extra digit.

I checked the number from the screen again and asked him to remove one 7. There should be two 7s not three. I don’t know how to delete a number on this phone. It is the first time I have used a touchscreen phone. It is very confusing that the screen is very big and everywhere seems sensitive.

The phone rang for just a short while and I hear Goggo’s voice. “Salamu Alaikum”, she greeted. “Who is on the line”, she continued.

“They said you can forget about sending the money, I have the money for the trip now”. I said repeatedly into the phone, without answering her questions or introducing myself.

The man looks shocked that I didn’t greet Goggo or make a conversation.

“Calm down and greet her, don’t worry about my credit. Take your time and talk to your mother.” The man instructed me.

He looks even more shocked now as he sees me crying with the phone on my face. I removed the phone from my ears as I cried, which he collected, and ended the call.

“What is the problem”, he asked me.

“She will beat me. She was very angry when she heard I misplaced the money for the trip, she cursed me badly over the phone.” I try to explain in a breaking voice.

It is often very hard for me to explain how scared I am of my mother. She beats me badly, almost like my teacher, Malam Jafaru.

I tried to explain that she is angry because I misplaced the money for my transport fare and she fully blamed me for it.

The man looks really confused as he tries to calm me down to stop my crying.

“Anyway, now you have the money for your trip and something for yourself.” He opens the gate and I make my way out of the house.

Maybe I have disappointed him, because he tried to see me happy, but even after that, there is still agony.

It is not that I don’t like going to Katsina, it is just that the way Goggo curses and says bad words to me. But I still look forward to tomorrow. Until then, I will go get some food and buy a trouser for myself with the remaining change. My only trouser is torn and I wouldn’t like to go to Katsina like this. Goggo will beat me if she sees me like this.

]]>https://bythepens.com/2017/03/20/the-bus-fare/feed/8wp-1490035293827.jpgsadiqadamuExcellent vision of the Praying Mantishttps://bythepens.com/2016/12/30/excellent-sight-of-the-praying-mantis/
https://bythepens.com/2016/12/30/excellent-sight-of-the-praying-mantis/#commentsFri, 30 Dec 2016 17:57:17 +0000http://bythepens.com/?p=181More Excellent vision of the Praying Mantis]]>With the breeze of December slowly settling, snowflakes covered the earth’s surface. The sun is nowhere to be found, it comes out but once in a blue moon, making sure habitats of the earth are missing it duly. The weather outside is competing in temperature with my fridge. Who the winner will be, is just a matter of perspective. Houses however, are resplendent with light, providing such sweet glamour, embellishment of bedizens flowers, fancy mistletoes, and fully decked Pine trees- perhaps the only trees around that still maintained their green leaves. These adorations are best Santa could ever wish for his landing party. There I say, Merry Christmas.

I happen to be shrouded in my blanket, as I don’t want to be the arbiter between my fridge and the outside temperature. This indoor attitude of mine has become a signature of laziness – one that I am proud of. Amid this laziness one day, a green insect flew in from the window which I had unknowingly, left partially open. I jumped to see who my visitor was. Behold! It is a Praying Mantis.

I’ve always been scared of things that fly: Birds- especially owls, cockroaches, and virtually all the arachnid family. If you think I’m weird, then way ahead of you; because the English language has names for my problems. They are classified as Acarophobia, Entomophobi and Ornithophobia. The latter is particularly in the fraternity of birds. I was not that scared of birds, but after checking some medieval drawings, my brain bearings became messed up. Perhaps we can talk about these drawings in my next post; perhaps I can manage to screw your thinking too. But until then, our praying mantis.

So after the mantis landed on my PC. I was left in shock, I began praying for it to fly away and leave me in peace. But I guess I am too sinful to compete in prayer with a praying Mantis. I decided to make formidable sounds, hoping to scare the green-life out of the insect, but all to no avail. I continued making various noises, least did I know that praying mantises have no ears- at least not for hearing. The mantis insisted on making my keyboard a family shrine, by inviting a fellow mantis who joined in. Honestly at this point, I am starting to think they are not praying but cursing me, they are invoking the evil spirit of their ancestors to cast a deadly spell on me. Howbeit, instead of getting an insecticide and committing insect genocide, I decided to engage them tete-a-tete, or more appropriately – insects-a-tete. I observed as these animals share some punches between them, each one striking blow for blow. It is no wonder that some species of mantis are called Kung-Fu Mantis. But in general, one thing apparent in these animals is their eyes. Big crystal eyes.

Although Mantis are deaf, interestingly and quite paradoxical they have an awesome vision. Praying mantises are on a whole different level when it comes to vision. They have one of the best visions among all animals. With their staggering five sophisticated eyes, the can see a range of colors unknown to man. Their cousins, however, the mantis shrimp have anywhere from 12 to 16 eyes. But we are not talking about them now. Scientists had done a great deal of research in understanding the vision of the praying mantis, and you will find it astonishingly interesting the length at which these researchers went in attempt to understanding this insect. Not to leave you in suspense, it involves some spectacular spectacles in form of tiny 3D glasses. And boy! They look just cool with their glasses on.

Halo!

Of the discoveries made regarding the animal. We learnt that they have binocular vision, giving the insects depth perception. They use the left eye to locate an object, and the right eye to calculate its distance, while the other three eyes are located in the middle provide better photoreception. It is noteworthy that mantises can see ultraviolet light, and while we see seven colors in a rainbow, scientist believe mantises see much more than seven. One of them said ‘Where we see a rainbow, the mantis sees a thermonuclear bomb of light and beauty’. While investigating the mantis, researchers placed the insect upside down in front of a computer screen after their glasses have been majestically worn.

The specie of this mantis is Sphodromantis lineola, from Africa, but I don’t care about that now. Checkout the glasses! I will call him James Bond. Or James Mantis. or something cool.

Since mantis cannot see red color, the 3-D glasses are colored differently than the conventional 3-D we use in cinema. Honestly, I prefer this mantis version to the boring human red and blue.

My next post will be about some Medieval drawings, we’ll see if you will still have respect for Leonardo da Vinci after that.

]]>https://bythepens.com/2016/12/30/excellent-sight-of-the-praying-mantis/feed/4sadiqadamu12Ben the Dolphinhttps://bythepens.com/2016/11/12/ben-the-dolphin/
https://bythepens.com/2016/11/12/ben-the-dolphin/#commentsSat, 12 Nov 2016 11:07:03 +0000http://bythepens.com/?p=141More Ben the Dolphin]]>Have you ever wondered how dolphins breathe? Well, Yes, we all learnt that fishes have gills which they use in taking-in the oxygen from the water for their respiration. But those are the regular fish, not marine mammals. Whale and Dolphins are mammals, and by definition, they can’t breathe in water. This means just like humans, they have to inhale air (oxygen) from outside the water, otherwise, they will drown! So generally, such Marine mammals will timely move to the surface of the water and inhale some oxygen from the gaseous environment, then dive back into the ocean for a swim.

All that is fine with me, but then, how will they sleep? will they die once they fall asleep? or they put their ‘noses’ out to the air? First of all, the nose is located at the wrong place (don’t get me wrong, it just confuses me) the nose is not in the elongated part of the head as generally perceived, but in the middle of their head. Anyway, Scientists have found that dolphins cannot go into full deep sleep, otherwise they will suffocate. However, what they do is to let one half of the brain to sleep at a time, and the other half will keep them half-conscious to observe incoming predator, and to let them move to the surface every now and then for breathing. This ‘half-brain-sleep’ mode is called unihemispheric slow-wave sleep; the dolphin generally swim very slowly during this period. At this time, a half of the brain hemisphere will be inactivated and the opposite eye to that hemisphere will also be closed. Neuroscientists have reported that in a day, each half of the brain gets to sleep for about 4 hours, but there is still contradiction on whether or not these Marine mammals dream and how their REM (rapid eye movement sleep) activities are.

I’ve had these questions in my mind for quite a while now. In the words of Michelangelo, if you want to know a person, ask them. To be honest, I paraphrased that for effect. Michelangelo actually said: “If a person tells you who they are, believe them”. Since Michelangelo didn’t specify to only humans, I decided to apply his logic and ask a dolphin myself about their lives.

So I decided to visit an aquarium where some dolphins are housed. I was fortunate to meet a very beautiful and loquacious dolphin whom I named Ben, The Dolphin. He was of the bottlenose specie -the dominant species in Europe- and although the species vary from place to place, dolphins live in almost every ocean around the world but the Antarctic and Arctic Oceans.

It was a cold weekend, and the aquarium was opened till late hours, I arrived at around 2pm. Upon reaching the glass aquarium, I sat by a pedestal for I was sure it was going to be a long day. I observed the aquatic habitants carefully as they moved in different directions, everyone minding its business. Suddenly, I noticed a dolphin swimming slowly and inactively through the waves. “It is sleeping!” I exclaimed: thinking to myself, I had finally seen a sleeping dolphin. I waited patiently until it approached the glass from where I was observing, and then I noticed something peculiar -both the eyes were open. I was a bit disappointed.

I greeted the dolphin and asked for his name. “I don’t have a name”, replied the dolphin, “we dolphins use a sonar-type of communication, i.e. by whistling, we can identify one another and hunt for prey. It is called echolocation”, explained the dolphin. “Shall I give you a name?” I asked, and the innocent dolphin responded affirmatively. “I shall call you Ben” I said, and that marked the beginning of an interspecies bonding.

Ben is a European and has a Schengen passport, I am still not sure of the gender of Ben, so I will be switching the identity between male and female throughout my conversions as I want to be politically correct.

Just like any other dolphin, Ben used to live in ocean’s continental shelves. In his own case, the North Sea, a marginal sea located between Great Britain and the Scandinavian. She expressed her worries about BREXIT and how it could eventually affect migrating dolphins. I told her not to worry, the BREXIT camp doesn’t really have a plan. She said that’s the exact reason why she’s very worried. Her mother is from Ireland – where the most bottlenose dolphins are found. So for Ben, immigration would not be an issue, but if the British government decided to close coastal boarders, then other European dolphins might undergo litigation and strandedness at the territorial waters. From our conversation, I could understand that she’s a fan of the former Prime Minister, David Cameron although, she hates the Tories; she expressed her support for the Labor party however.

I told Ben that recent research has shown that dolphins have the best memory amongst animals; they can memorize the signature whistle of a dolphin up to 20 years after separation. She was happy to hear that and I can see her nose turning pink.

“You are blushing”, I said, “Your nose, it is turning red”. Ben did not get the joke, but she used the opportunity to start explaining to me a different species of dolphin called the pinked-nose dolphins. They are a rare species and generally found in the Louisiana Lake. I had a little disagreement with Ben there, because I read that the pink dolphins in Louisiana Lake were in fact albinos. Albinism is a genetic trait and it is still unclear to scientist as to the type of albinism the animal inherited.

After about an hour into the conversation, we got interrupted by a security guard, who thought I must have lost my mind. I explained and reassured the guard of my mental fitness, and persuaded him that it was for the benefit of science; moreover, the dolphin seemed very happy with his new friend.

Meet Ben

It’s already late, I completely lost track of time but before I leave, Ben had requested a favor from me, to compose a poem for him. I used the limited time to sing the following couplets for my friend.

Wallow through the depths of waters O poor Ben

Swirl to the ripples of the ocean

For your magnanimous avatar stands unmatched

Whistle out loud, like the cadence of the music

For your spirit is all but inept

Lee through the Galicia, your nonchalance is pride

While some see fun, I see chivalry at its best.

….

I learnt a lot from Ben that day, and I will surely find time to visit my friend again. Speaking about time, I will like to finish with another saying by Leonardo da Vinci, I’ll try not to paraphrase anything this time. He said: “In rivers, the water that you touch is the last of what has passed and the first of that which comes; so with time”

]]>https://bythepens.com/2016/11/12/ben-the-dolphin/feed/5sadiqadamudolphin-3A flower that once blossomed; The Bornu Empire from the lenses of the Ottoman Empirehttps://bythepens.com/2016/11/05/a-flower-that-once-blossomed-the-bornu-empire-from-the-lenses-of-the-ottoman-empire/
https://bythepens.com/2016/11/05/a-flower-that-once-blossomed-the-bornu-empire-from-the-lenses-of-the-ottoman-empire/#commentsSat, 05 Nov 2016 23:52:14 +0000http://sadiqadamu.wordpress.com/?p=50More A flower that once blossomed; The Bornu Empire from the lenses of the Ottoman Empire]]>It’s been a long while, as well it should. The past months have been studiously monotonous. Concluding my thesis and finalizing on a school for my doctorate appeared to be much more difficult than I thought, clash of interest, inherent laziness, fruitless day and sleepless nights – not only sleepless from studying but recently from the coup attempt in Turkey. I will try to keep wary of the coup issue, for obvious reasons. So as we were, by midnight, Jet fighters started flying low and firing sonic bombs, scarring every bit of calmness I possess. I cannot exactly say how the reverberations were getting to me, through the ears? Sixth sense? Who knows. I guess I was hearing the sounds of explosion not only through my ears, but also directly through my bones via bone conduction, a phenomenon I only knew theoretically before that day. Wait! We are already talking about the coup….Crap! Finally now I have time to write in my blog again. And hopefully now I’ll be more frequent than the usual, which has been the lifespan-of-a-dragonfly.

Last time, we went to 7th century Napels, and stayed there apparently, we haven’t really returned. Let me share a small story before we leave that era, for good. It is the story of Julius Caesar, when he got kidnapped. Yes! You read it right. The Great priest of Jupiter, the General, the powerful Roman Emperor, got himself kidnapped by pirates in 75 BCE while sailing to Greece. The pirates demanded twenty Talents (ancient unit of weight) as ransom for Caesar, but he objected to that, saying he was worth more than twenty talents. He insisted they demand even more, at least fifty Talents, and graciously they accepted. While the silver coins are being prepared and sent, he managed to get close to the pirates not as a prisoner but as a colleague or even as a leader. He jokingly told them that when freed, he would hunt them down and kill them. The clueless pirates actually thought he was joking… Boy! Were they slaughtered.

Alright, enough of the dark ages, let’s come closer. I am afraid the cardinal section of this piece might not be of much interest to non-Nigerian readers; as well I apologize for that. I promise to write more universal next time. But for anyone interested in early Nigerian stories, and pre-colonial social dynamics especially that of the Borno Empire, then you are welcome aboard for a fun ride.

In light of the shaky relationship between Nigeria and the Republic of Turkey post-coup d’état attempt, I believe it will be interesting to reflect on the first Nigerian embassy established in the Balkan state about 500 years ago! Let’s pull back a bit.

The medieval sources are the oldest records we have about the history of Kanem-Bornu, the first empire to have converted to Islam in the sub-Saharan region, somewhere in the 8th century. The exact time period and who was the first Mai (king) of Kanem to have converted to Islam is a debated topic in African history, but most medieval sources hinted at Mai Hummany (c. 1075-86). Mai Hummany founded the longest Muslim dynasty in African history, and it is said that he was from the Sefuwa dynasty, the kingship that replaced the Zaghawa aristocracy somewhere in early 8th century.

Due to its proximity to Lake Chad, Bornu became a location of importance not only to Tripoli – which was an economic harbor, but also to Tunisia – which was the most influential city in the Mediterranean and North Africa at that time. Religion did not take the Sahel by storm, for although the Kanem-Bornu rulers converted early, it took centuries before majority of the populace became Muslims. Up until 1100, many of the rulers and aristocrats of the Sahel were still pagan. The early conversion of Kanem-Bornu elites, and consequent islamization of Lake Chad region brought about an important trans-Saharan trading system throughout the Sahara and Sahel region of Africa.

Camel caravan moving from western Sahara enroute to the North. (Emilie Manfuso Aebi)

At this point, you may be asking what this brief history rant have to do with Turkish Embassy and First mission in the Balkans. Well, just like I have to read through different excerpts to reach there, you also have to be patient and follow the story. Like the famous 17th century Sufi, Al-Darqawi once said; “If you want to get water in the desert, you dig one six-feet well, not six one-foot wells.” now that we have established an early account of the Borno empire, It is easy to understand other events that will come 800 years later.

The Kanem Kingdom continued to grow in power and influence and by the 16th century, it had already reached far north to Fezzan, a deserted land with many oases, in modern Libya. During this course, there were many developments in the kingdom itself, with lots of migrations, rehabilitation and eventual transition from Kanem to Bornu. Also, it was during this time that the Kanembu and Kanuri ethnicities became the predominant tribes in the region and through intermarriages, the Kanuri tribe eventually dominated the region: in contrast to some 300 years earlier when the pastoral Bulala people were more dominant. It was about the same time in 16th century that the Bornu Empire had a ruler named Mai Idris Alooma, whose reign was referred to as the “golden era” of the kingdom. Idris Alooma was the first to appoint a person to a position called the court historian, who not only being his chief imam, also would record historic accounts of events. This made it much easier for subsequent historians to have a chronology of the reign of Idris Alooma. His then court Historian, Imam Ahmed Fartua, wrote a book History of the Twelve Years of the Reign of Mai Idris Alooma of Bornu in late 1500s. From the records of this historian, we have primal information about the relationship between the Ottoman Empire and Borno. As part of the militaristic powers of Mai Alooma, he was the first ruler to bring guns to sub-Saharan Africa. I guess this clears the famous false notion that colonial masters brought guns to the region about 4 centuries later.

As of 1574, when Ottoman Empire conquered Fezzan, an important city we mentioned earlier. Tension began to grow between Mai Idris and Murad III (the Ottoman Sultan at the time). King Alooma demanded that the Ottomans gave him back his castles and land. However, these were sources of revenue for the ottomans because fortresses under their control – or eyelet as they called it, are able to levy lots of tax. The records show that the ottomans were in Africa even before the reign of Murad III. Sultan Selim I, conquered Egypt much earlier. But the reasons for conquering Egypt differ from those for North Africa. While the motivation for the Ottoman invasion of Egypt was primarily to out-power their rivals- the Mamluks (sometimes written as Mamelukes)-, the invasion of North Africa was not out of rivalry, rather, in support of the North African local forces in order to contain invading Spaniards.

Mai Alooma was not ready for bifurcation of power, and needed repatriation. But he decided to use diplomacy. He sent a six-man delegation including scribes to Sultan Murad in Istanbul. This would be a welcome development for Sultan Murad as well, because, although, Ottomans had sovereignty of Fezzan, Bornu was one of the biggest powers in the region they did not have control over and it was sine qua non to have an alliance with the kingdom.

The books did not tell us how long it took to get the scribes across, but one can guesstimate to be about 300 camel days, especially seeing the shortest route, i.e. via Libya, was most probably hostile due to the Spanish invasion going on. I tried as much to get a picture of the real scribes used in the correspondence and thanks to Mühimmi defterleri, below is an image of the letters between Sultan Murad and Mai Alooma in 16th century.

A part of correspondence from Sultan Murad to Mai Alooma in 23th May, 1577 reads as follows: “We have promulgated and dispatched it (the letter)……a unique salutation the fragrance of which spreads over the lands….greetings…to the most noble, the most illustrious, the most magnificent, the rightly guided, the one aided by God, the helper of the warriors among the believers, the supporter of the great men among the adherents of the unity of God…..the possessor of the sovereignty and sanctity, the ruler of the state of Borno at present King Idris may God prolong his prosperity and make his aims successful.”

The influence of Bornu in the region could not be overemphasized. Apart from its military strength, a trans-Saharan trade cannot be possible without Bornu. This led to a mutual relationship between the Ottoman Empire and Kanem-Bornu in late 1500s, and Bornu established an embassy in Istanbul. Although some records seem to show that Bornu was taken by the Ottomans as an obedient vassal, the diplomatic procedure between the two states however, was just like any other small foreign state and most of the requests from Bornuans were granted with proper decorum.

]]>https://bythepens.com/2016/11/05/a-flower-that-once-blossomed-the-bornu-empire-from-the-lenses-of-the-ottoman-empire/feed/2timbuktu2sadiqadamuForward To The Pasthttps://bythepens.com/2016/01/07/forward-to-the-past/
https://bythepens.com/2016/01/07/forward-to-the-past/#commentsThu, 07 Jan 2016 19:19:11 +0000http://sadiqadamu.wordpress.com/?p=25More Forward To The Past]]>If by any means you have a problem with the title of this piece, I would suggest you first pick it up with Robert Zemeckis, the writer and director of the movie Back To The Future, I mean- if we can go back to the future, why can’t we go forward to the past? “The force is strong with me though I’m not a Jedi” – you have to recite that in Dart Vader’s voice (don’t worry, this is not yet another star wars fantasy post, we’ve all had enough of that this month).

That being said, unlike Back To The Future, we’ll ski back through time and place to explore an episode from the people of the past. Thanks to documentation and history, we have much higher chances of being more accurate than Zemeckis’s movie. Although we’ll not be completely accurate, because a piece of history from first millennium has a very good chance of being inaccurate and biased, especially if we have to base our knowledge on ancient scrolls or archaeological findings that survived, “survivorship bias”.

Talking about survivorship bias, in the year 1941 during the World War II, the American Army had a living testimony of the term survivorship bias. The military was engulfed with problem of few war planes returning home after an operation, most of them couldn’t make it back perhaps due to air missile attacks or they couldn’t withstand the intercontinental arsenal thrown at them from opposition infantry troops. The then Department of Defense decided to solve the problem by putting additional armors to the fighter jets. They could however afford just a limited weight of armor onto the airplanes, because full-body reinforcement will make the plane too heavy to fly.

The strategic and logistics team decided to inspect the few planes that returned from the operation and observed that most of the damages on these planes happened on the tail and wings. Now it is only logical to try and reinforce those parts with more armor if one wants to make the plane stronger- and that was just what the team did. Alas! To their surprise, the result after adding armor to those parts of the planes was even poorer. They had fewer number of planes returning home than before.

They decided to implore the help of a man name Abraham Wald. Dr. Wald was a Jewish-Austrian born mathematician and statistics expert, who fled to the United States shortly after the Nazi annexation of Austria in 1938 (most people in the field of econometrics will perhaps be familiar with his name).

Via The National WWII Museum

Upon seeing the problem, Mr. Wald drew diagram of the planes and shaded the areas damaged and wrenched by bullet holes – believe it or not, the diagram above is Wald’s actual diagram. He made a judgment that seemed rather ridiculous at first, but on a second look, it was in fact ingenious. He told the army to use the available armor to reinforce the parts of the planes that weren’t affected by the damages, and leave the damaged regions unarmored; his conclusion was that the army might have fallen prey to survivorship bias. Meaning they considered only planes that survived. The destroyed planes didn’t return because the parts other than the tail and wings were damaged, implying the plane could still fly with little damages to the tail and wings, but will crash if the other parts are affected. And there was a remarkable improvement on the number of surviving planes after Mr. Wald’s intervention. This reminds me of a saying from Reza Aslan, that “if all we know about planes is from the TV/media, then it’s enough for us to conclude that all planes that takeoff eventually crash, that is because the media never reports a plane that takes off and lands safely. On a slightly different sad-note, Mr. Abraham Wald died of plane crash in India in 1950 along with his wife.

Our next stop is Pompeii- and yes, that’s where the story of this article resides; all that flashback was a by-the-way. Pompeii is an ancient city in modern Italy near the Bay of Naples, although it is not much a city now as it was before 79 AD. The city is named after General Pompeii, whose was defeated by Julius Cesar in his quest for formation of an Empire. Apart from being a thriving residential city, Pompeii was famous mainly for its amphitheater fans and their enthusiasm for gladiator championship. It was a city believed to have had a population of about 10,000 people and even at then, it had such a complex water distribution channel, gymnasiums and of course, a state-of-the-earth stadium for the gladiator championship. They were quite erotic people too; they even had brothels whose Erotic Frescoes and wall paintings are enough to set the ambiance.

Louis S. Glanzman/National Geographic

Above is a rendering of how the city is believed to have been in 70s AD. All that civilization came to an end upon the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. The active volcanic mountain that exploded in 79 AD and buried the whole city of Pompeii, destroying and covering all its inhabitants in volcanic ash and pumice. This indirectly preserved the whole city is in a form of “time capsule” for archaeologists only to discover it 1600 years later.

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CARLO HERMANN/AFP/Getty Images

As if I can see the evening of August 24th AD 79, when Mt. Vesuvius decided it is time to vomit some magma to the earth crust. Families are closing up for the day, slaves pushing hard to complete the days’ work and collect their wages. Headsmen are just returning from their grazing field, having no idea it’s the last they they’ll ever need to pasture the animals.

Many of the accounts we know today about the escapade of that day was from a letter sent by Gaius Plinius Caecilius Secundus (otherwise known as Pliny the Younger) to Cornelius Tacitus, who was a senator and a historian of the Roman Empire. Plinius happened to escape the disaster and he wrote a letter about the death of his uncle, Pliny the Elder. In his words, Pliny wrote : “Now came the dust, though still thinly. . . . following us like a flood poured across the land.. . . You could hear women lamenting, children crying, men shouting. Some were calling for parents, others for children or spouses; they could only recognize them by their voices. Some bemoaned their own lot, other that of their near and dear. There were some so afraid of death that they prayed for death. Many raised their hands to the gods, and even more believed that there were no gods any longer and that this was one last unending night for the world. . . . . We stood up and shook the ash off again and again, otherwise we would have been covered with it and crushed by the weight. . . . I might boast that no groan escaped me in such perils, no cowardly word, but that I believed that I was perishing with the world, and the world with me, which was a great consolation for death. . . Fear was the stronger, for the earth was still quaking and a number of people who had gone mad were mocking the evils that had happened to them and others with terrifying prognostications. We still refused to proceed until we heard news of my uncle, although we had felt danger and expected more.”

(Epistolae, Book VI, 16 & 20)- The letter from Pliny to Tacitus

Although the Roman Empire is generally conjectured to be a Male gender-dominated society engulfed in slavery, murder and all sorts of discriminations, there are significant female figures such as Eumachia; a public priestess in Pompeii whose euregetism and philanthropy cannot be overlooked. She funded the construction of a large public building in Pompeii for the poor, out of her goodwill and kindness – a behavior that is seldom seen from the rich at that time.

Some researchers believed the destruction happened when the city was about to have a big election, judging from the slogans of change, zealotry and vendetta inscribed in the walls of the city, it is typical to imagine that the people weren’t exactly happy with the ruling power then. The Romans even long before Christ are quite cosmopolitan. In fact, food items from as far as Indonesia were found to be consumed in Pompeii and grains from North Africa, Egypt and Palestine are imported into the city.

Mt. Vesuvius on the other hand is still regarded as the most dangerous volcano, not only because it’s the only volcano in the European mainland to have erupted in the last hundred years, but because of the 3 million people settling at its vicinity- well within the proximity for an eruption.

By Abubakar Adamu.

]]>https://bythepens.com/2016/01/07/forward-to-the-past/feed/13sadiqadamuVia The National WWII MuseumLouis S. Glanzman/National GeographicThis picture taken on Nov. 9, 2012 through the protective glass of the Orto dei fuggiaschi (The garden of the Fugitives) shows the 13 bodies of victims who were buried by the ashes as they attempted to flee Pompeii during the 79 AD eruption of the Vesuvius volcano.stone men 2(Epistolae, Book VI, 16 and 20)Beyond the smell . . .https://bythepens.com/2015/10/14/beyond-the-smell/
https://bythepens.com/2015/10/14/beyond-the-smell/#commentsWed, 14 Oct 2015 19:12:06 +0000http://sadiqadamu.wordpress.com/?p=14More Beyond the smell . . .]]>I am taking on a new direction of writing this time; today’s piece is going to be on something controversial, something both strange and familiar at the same time. And that’s “The nose”. Okay, just before you close this page and find something important to do with your life, hear me out. I think you will enjoy it, especially if you are enthusiastic or having your midlife crisis or preparing for one or genuinely curious about life.

Lately, while I was searching on issues related to my research, I came across a rather thought provoking peer review paper, and this opened the door for further research for further thought provocation.

We have always known ourselves to smell volatile analytes- with exception of people having anosmia or other smelling disorders. Whether a smell is pleasant or not, the consensus is always “we know when we smell something”. Well, I am not sure how correct this sentence is anymore, but we will come to that later.

Over and over again, we’ve been told how remarkably weak our sense of smell is, in comparison to other species such as dogs. We’re often told that we can distinguish between 10,000 different smells and dog are 1000 to 10,000 times better than us. But a group of researchers at Rockefeller University rigorously showed that our sense of smell has been tremendously underestimated all the while. In a work they published in science 2014, it reported that we can in fact, smell over a trillion different odors. Well, I am not going to go into their detailed studies and experimentation because that’s not why am here.

I think I should apologize in advance, if this piece looks like a PhD thesis or a review article. I just couldn’t find a better way to do justice to the scholarship, so references and citations will be used as we proceed. Actually this is the right time for the first reference (adamu et.al) – By the way, that was a joke, because none of my research or articles are related to psychology. Ops! I have gone off on a tangent.

So, the sentence that initiated this entire piece is “Humans can smell at a subconscious level, defining their reaction and behaviors involuntarily”. The implications of this provoked my curiosity, hence my hunt for more studies & evidence: because the notion that we behave in a certain way because we unknowingly smelled something, is the kind of thing that keeps me up at night.

We know to an observable extent, that dogs have stereo smelling ability, enabling them to position the direction of odor; most of these is due to fact that nonhuman primates have a special system that detects pheromones called Vomeronasal Organ (VNO), one of the major complications of demonstrating the use of pheromones in human is that although vomeronasal organ exists at embryonic stage, it degenerates in later development (Hays, 2003). More so, there is a missing neural link between the brain and the vomeronasal bulb (Trinidelli et al). Ergo, these VNOs are believed to be vestigial and non-functional in humans. If so, then we shouldn’t be able to smell pheromones. Or should we!!???

Now that we have established that we humans don’t have the full sensory system that smells pheromones, it is however scientifically proven that airborne compounds/gases send signals about our moods, sexual orientation and even our genetic makeup without us knowing. Researcher Eric Palma made an experiment by playing a sad movie to a group of women, and then he collected their tears and placed it under men’s noses. The result was a significant reduction in the men’s testosterone level as well as arousal. This concluded that the men unconsciously smelled something in the unidentified fluid (‘tears’ for all we know), signaling them that romance is off the table.

This issue gets even weirder; a lot more studies have shown that humans can smell shape. Yes! We smell each other’s shape, and our decision on whether someone is sexy is not entirely based on what we see, actually more of it has to do with what we smell. Rikiwski and Gammer held an experiment to compare the ratings of attractiveness, body odor and index of body and face symmetry, they experimented with 16 male and 19 female, were the female subjects wore T-shirts for 3 consecutive days and then the shirts were given to opposite sex for judgment and preference. They reported positive correlation between selected shirts and the facial symmetry, body odor and attractiveness of the subjects.

Psychologist Devendra Singh made a similar study about people’s body shape and asymmetry using something called waist-hip-ratio (WHR) – quiet literally, the ration of the hip and the waist- and projected results showing that women with WHR of 0.7 and lower are more desirable to men. Singh concluded that WHR of 0.67 to 1.18 in females is attractive to men and 0.8 to 1.0 in men is attractive to women (Singh et.al 2004). So actually, the idea of beauty and admiration is conveying information about health and fertility, and we subconsciously deem a person desirable due to what we smell.

Of course, I am not conclusively saying that our actions and feeling are in fact controlled by the things we smell I have a list of people I hate and I have never met them before (don’t judge me). – But it’s paramount to rethink our supremacy in ultimate decision making. To go on another tangent here (I promise this will be my last), there is an unproven science – am not sure if calling it science is acceptable here, but anyway – which says that the menstrual circle of women who are in close proximity to each other synchronizes with time (McClintock). Although no sophisticated science behind it, but observational and hypothetical statements, coupled with a few theories have been presented.

The first hypothesis was in 1971, when a psychology student at Harvard (Martha McClintock) published a paper in ‘Nature‘ stating that women who spend a lot of time together will tend to have their menstruation cycle sync over time. She also based her hypothesis on the controversial science of pheromones and people’s behavior, her deduction was however rebuffed by some researchers such as Clyde Wilson. Another study in support of McClintock argued that during the cycle, a female companion unconsciously detect/smell some axillary secretions from her partner and this slows down her luteinizing hormone necessary for ovulation, consequently, the second partner will have her luteinizing hormone accelerated vis-à-vis her companion, resulting in uniform cycle. But even with that, the issue hasn’t been settled as other scientists suggest “simply interpreting a data and not being cognizant to the ‘confirmation bias’ (the tendency to interpret information in a way that confirms ones preconceptions) can lead to errors in statistical analysis.”

Be it as it may, we should probably think twice when next rejected or responded counter-expected. We should consider the elements beyond the smell that could have triggered the reaction.

I was recently on a sojourn in İzmir, a vibrant city on the western extremity of Anatolia. The city being the third most populous city in Turkey, shrouds on a collective feel of humanity, decorated with beautiful attractions such as historic sites, archeology museums and beautiful sea coasts.

The city lies on the coast of Aegean Sea, creating such a natural beauty that enjoys the Mediterranean climate. The coasts provide a commercial ground port as well as beaches for touristic attractions. Alaçati and Çesme were two of the beaches which I had the opportunity to see.

I, not being someone generally fervent to the night attractions or noise subjective environments, was among the visitors of Çesme one night. It was a warm evening; the air was humid, with chilling zephyr coming from the tempestuous ocean. The bright sturgeon moon illuminated the whole horizon. It was more like a moon twilight.

I sat by a stone pavement off the sea shore, surveying the dawn horizon as the water turbulence sways away the sea spume. The shore was quite crowded, with some people enthusiastically throwing their fishing hooks in hopes to bait and clasp the unlucky fish of the day, others seated on pavements like myself, mostly in couples, and a few buzzing away the moment with alcohol. I suppose in exchange to obliterate feelings they don’t want to have, or in order to illusively acquire a feeling they desire, or they might just be drinking, I don’t know.

For some time, I felt isolated, like an alien attending a United Nation summit. But the bespattering sound of the ocean tides is as it hits the pavement I sat on, rekindled my mind and took me into a deep realm of hypnotic cogitation and pondering. Man, as a powerful being, and by creation, a terrestrial being is ever evolving with growing imagination and modernized civilization. But how helpless are we as aquatic beings. Our power is nothing in comparison to the strength of the slow ocean tides. One can learn how to swim, and enjoy the recreational activity, but one cannot live by swimming- only if it were possible, then the image that emanated in my brain will never have to exist, the seldom feeling of melancholy and grief slowly engulfed me and further aggravated my introspection. The image of a deceased child, whose body has been washed off the sea shores appeared. Alyan, was his name. As if I could see the child in the early moments his refugee boat capsized. Floating hopelessly to the tides, struggling to hold grasp of the little air he can, and not inhale a rather salty solution into his lungs. If a ship is powerless in the ocean, then how more so can a child of age three be? A child that needs all the help and guidance she/he can get as a terrestrial being, is now struggling in one of the biggest oceans in the planet. Imagine the grief the mother of this toddler had to bare; is it losing a son? Or seeing him fight his last breaths, or fighting for her life in the sinking boat as well? Humanity washed ashore

Photograph: Nilufer Demir/Reuters

One of man’s proud invention is the Nation state, as Hangel in 1956 proclaimed that “Is the Divine Idea as it exists on earth”. Also, one of the revolutionary anarchist thinkers of the 18th century, Bakunin – the founder of anarcho-syndicalism, and he has this to say about Nation State: “is the negotiation of humanity, whether monarchy or republic”. In my humble opinion, both of them could not be more wrong today. Who is negotiating for whom? Alyan does not care about concepts of territorial sovereignty and central government, he does not care about what and whose belief is superior, talk less of “compromising the social standards”. Yet, he lived to pay for the policies with his life. Humanity washed ashore.

These refugees spend weeks on the sea, competing for food as well as air to breathe, all these in search for a peaceful land, a place where they could rest their heads at night without the worry of waking up in blood or literally, roofs on their heads.

The horror, as if not enough as it is, these refugees have to bear humiliation and hostility from some states they arrive, that is still not enough, but they have to be vilified on the bases of “differences in belief” and “social standards” in fear of social diversification. It is imperative to note that these fleeing refuges were not born at the borders, or fleeing because of a self-induced condition, but rather, once had a home, a state, and lived a life they are now dreaming of.

The world has been grieving and mourning for the 1500 passengers of the Titanic-1912, yet, we are not short of sinking two Titanics in 2015 alone.

J.K Rowling wrote in her Harry Potter series “Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike.” How much more indifferent can we be to the full horror of human tragedy unfolding at the shores of the richest continent -by GDP nominal- on the planet.

Has mother earth failed in habituating Alyan, his mother and his bother? Or we as a people create a global assault on human rights, and remain indifferent to the scourge of poverty and statelessness that results. The final chapters of Alyan and his mother has been closed but how many more Aliyans do we have today, and how many more are going to have a similar story…. Humanity washed ashore.

Ending with a quote from Mahatma Gandhi, “You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is like an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty”